Chapter Fourteen
Josh didn’t know what to say to his mate’s question. There was so much to tell her and they had another crisis to handle at the same time. He guided her inside. As if she were in a long-lost memory, she followed him quietly then sat in one of the desk seats. What clued him into her being in a quasi trance? The fact he had his arm around her without her threatening to kick his balls into his throat and that she then let him hold her hand.
He plopped into his own chair and rolled to her so their knees touched. He placed his elbows on his thighs then sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sergeant Maj—”
His mate held up her hand. “I’ve seen you naked. No more military titles. I don’t want to think of military men in the buff.”
About fucking time! He didn’t want her calling him anything weird when he finally got her naked. This was a big step forward.
“Okay, Candy,” he said. “Yes, I’m a wolf. And so are my guys, except Frank is a cougar, and Parish is a black jaguar, as you saw.” He watched her eyes carefully, ready to take her down if she went for the gun cabinet. She just nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“That makes a lot of sense, now,” she said, running shaky fingers through her hair. “I knew a wolf got on, but a very nude man climbed out.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. What man and why was he undressed?
She blinked wide eyes at him. “Is that you? Are you growling?”
He told his wolf to chill. He had no idea what or when she was talking about. Now was time to pay attention to their mate, not jump to conclusions.
“So,” she said, “that’s what makes your organization so special.” Still nodding, she continued. “And that’s why you’re all so big, stature-wise.”
“Not all of us, but those working with the government usually are because of what we do,” he said.
“And that’s, what, exactly?” she asked.
“Well, in ALFA, we do what’s needed, from personal security to tracking down international bad guys.”
“Oh,” she blinked at him. “Like watching over a mafia female or discovering a human trafficking ring in Europe.”
“Yeah, like those,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. She had called him out on those recent jobs. Though the missions weren’t totally screwed up, they had their moments. His mate seemed too quiet. “You have any questions?”
She shook her head. “No, not right now. Not really. I’m sure I will eventually. A lot of them.”
Okay. She was going through a bit of shock. That was normal and understandable. “I’m sure this comes as a huge surprise,” he said.
“Well, sort of,” she responded, her voice still lacking that bite he was used to. “Not as incredible as what happened in New Mexico, but yeah.”
“What happened in New Mexico?” he asked.
Her hand covered her mouth. “Oops. Nothing. You’re really messing with my head.”
He sat forward in his chair. “You talking about Area 51? That New Mexico?” he questioned.
She spun her chair to face the wall of monitors and pushed buttons on the board. “I wonder what we missed while outside?”
“Hey,” he said. “That’s not fair.”
She grinned at him. “Sorry, dude. If I tell you—”
Josh flopped back in his chair. “Then you’ll have to kill me.” He winked at her, hoping to make everything normal again.
“You got it.” Her smile lit him up inside. Candy continued to mess with buttons and knobs, as camera footage ran backward.
He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he felt as if they’d crossed a long and scary slatted-wood bridge dangling a hundred feet above snapping crocodiles. He was light and happy. She looked relaxed and focused. She smelled content with a tinge of arousal. Was that for him? It had better be, or he’d be kicking someone’s ass.
“Here it is,” she said, pushing buttons.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
She said, “Before I came outside, Yulian was talking to the newswoman. I think he may have said something important.”
“We saw the camera guy turn the light on and the mic cord stretched inside, but that was it,” Josh said. “Any idea what Yul said?” He glanced up at a small TV mounted on the wall. A five second commercial promo identified the station as the same as the letters on the van outside. A regular nighttime show played—no live footage, so this crisis was still under some control.
“No clue what he said, but we’re about to find out.” She twisted a knob. “Hopefully, it’ll answer some questions we have. Like what the hell is going on? And where is his brother?”
He noted her usage of “we.” That was a good sign, right? The security camera footage played on a larger monitor sitting on the desk in front of them. He watched as the reporter hesitantly stepped toward the glass door to hand off the microphone, then hurry back toward the camera.
The guy argued with one of his men in Russian, then stood behind the NIA director tied to a chair. “‘Ello, Americans and people of Vashington, DC—”
Candy looked at Josh and asked, “Is that the same voice as the YouTube we heard upstairs?”
He nodded. “Yeah, the one you said was Yulian, so that much we have right.”
The video continued: “ . . . your government do dis to my family. I am here to tell you my story. My American father marry my Russian mother then you kill him years later—”
“What the hell?” Josh asked. “Is he giving us his life story?”
“Sounds like it,” Candy replied as she typed into a laptop sitting to the side. “God, does he think this is Lifetime or something? I can’t believe he’s telling the truth. There has to be a good explanation if he is.”
He grunted. “He’s trying to justify why he’s doing this. What has that got to do with him taking hostages?” Josh couldn’t believe this joker. There was no reason ever to threaten innocent lives, to bully others into doing what you wanted.
“Great,” Candy said, scanning through the laptop’s screen contents. “He and his brother have a grudge against the U.S. government.”
“Why?” he asked. “What happened to them?” The CIA logo rested in the corner of the website Candy clicked and typed into.
“According to their intelligence file, the boys’ father was an American who married their Russian mother. They lived in Russia as their father worked as an ambassador-like person of some kind.” She paused and scrolled farther down on the screen. “In the early 2000s, he was recalled to the States.”
“Why?” Josh said moving closer.
“Espionage charges,” Candy continued.
“Did he have a trial?” Josh asked. Candy skimmed longer.
“Shit. The father was killed on a street in DC, coming to the NIB,” she said.
“By whom?” he placed a hand over her shoulder, and she sat up but didn’t say anything to him touch.
“Case unsolved,” she replied. “But notes say they think another Russian spy already here took him out before he could testify. Not much after that,” she said. “Bunch of gibberish.” She clicked the back button a couple times.
“So you’re telling me this guy and his brother are seeking revenge on the U.S. government fifteen years after their father’s murder? And we didn’t even do it.” Josh found that cowardly. Yeah, it was a shitty hand dealt to them, but what they were doing now was more wrong.
“Here’s something more,” Candy said, her voice excited. “Looks like we kept eyes on the mom and boys for a while in Russia. Says here the mom died from illness a couple of years later, leaving the boys on their own. The two dropped out of school and melted into the Russian underground. End of file.”
“How old were they,” he asked, taking a few steps back and trying to calm his animal.
“Yulian was fifteen. Mikhail was seventeen,” she said. “God, poor kids. No wonder they are the way they are as adults. To survive on their own in that environment . . .”
Her expression and smell turned sad. Even though these guys were terrorists, his mate was caring enough to feel sorry about their situation as children. She may show a hard-lined bitch face to the world, but underneath she was a gooey chocolate chip cookie. One he’d spread open to let the hot chips drip like honey as his tongue caught the ambrosia. He licked his lips and pivoted his chair away from her, hiding his filled dick.
“Oh, this isn’t good,” she said. She wasn’t talking about cock, was she?